


Midday Commitment

by Amaranth (BurbleJerry)



Series: Intimacy and Support [3]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Biting, Dry Orgasm, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, I stand by white hair being referred to as 'blonde', M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Polyamory, Post-Coital Cuddling, Prostate Massage, Prostate Orgasm, Prostate Play, Prostate-Induced Orgasm, Rough Sex, Sex Addiction, Taguel!Inigo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-03-16 17:19:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13640886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurbleJerry/pseuds/Amaranth
Summary: With Inigo pledged to help with his problem, Owain tries to get through saving the world without anyone else finding out in the process. Set after ‘Morning Agreement’.





	1. Week Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inigo and Owain meet up again, as per their arrangement.

“Hoi there!”

Inigo looked over at the familiar greeting, unsurprised when a particular grinning blonde stood before him. Owain slung a friendly arm across Inigo’s shoulders, brushing those long ears in the process. The myrmidon leaned in close and lessened his volume, compared to his usual noise level at least.

“Inigo of the Indigo Skies, is your day taken by any important tasks?” While Owain maintained his grin, something about his expression was unusually tense. 

Inigo found himself grinning back, tone kept light in response to Owain’s anxiety. “I was going to head into town and chat up some of the local ladies, but I suppose I could make time for you.”

“Perfect timing!” Owain abruptly paused, glancing around camp, and Inigo followed his gaze. The place was mostly empty, as half the army was visiting the nearby town. “Grab your things and follow me, Inigo, for we may be gone awhile!” With his own bag slung over his shoulder, Owain impatiently waited for Inigo to grab his own duffel before bounding away. With a sigh, Inigo jogged to keep up.

They easily reached the Valmese town. It was a minor trading hub for the local area, and fairly busy with people going about their business. Owain walked through the crowd with purpose. Inigo was focused on keeping Owain in sight, though he wondered where in the world they were going.

Eventually, they reached a two-story inn. Owain led him around the side to the sizeable stables, which were in as good a condition as the main building. There was a stableboy idling around, who looked up at their arrival, nodded to Owain, and scampered out with a few curious backward glances. For his part, the platinum blonde returned the nod very seriously, and waited until the lad was out of sight before facing Inigo with his confident usual grin.

“Ok, Owain. What’s going on?” Inigo asked, looking around as he did. The few horses stabled here were distracting, in that they whinnied softly and stared at the two strange humans. He briefly considered trying his hand at riding someday. Ladies loved horses, right? A half-taguel should be able to sweet-talk a horse into making him look good, with enough bribes.

Inigo’s wandering attention was suddenly caught and held by Owain’s nervous tone. “You see, Inigo, I, um… it’s been a few days, since we … you know, and I was hoping we could do it again. Soon. As in today.”

Despite his blush, Inigo nodded to the request as if it were no big deal. “Today? Well, ok-- wait, but why are we here?” Owain’s grin became sheepish, and Inigo’s eyes widened with realization. “Oh no. We’re not doing that here! What if someone walked in!?”

“No one will walk in,” Owain declared confidently, despite Inigo’s frown, “The stableboy will keep people out for around an hour-”

Inigo paled and glanced towards the entrance to the stables, though he couldn’t see the lad in question. “Wh- wait, what? Why? Did you bribe him?! Are you actually going mad?!”

“No! I know an hour isn’t much, but we can make it work.” Owain smirked at his own flawless logic.

Inigo groaned and covered his face with his hands. “An hour-- no, nevermind. Owain, I don’t know how long the first time was, and I don’t really care. That’s not even the point! Why here? Why can’t we just rent a room at the actual inn?”

“Well,” Owain drooped somewhat, “I guess we could do that. But it’s kind of hot to do it here, right?” Apparently taking Inigo’s blank stare as confusion, Owain struck his customary pose and explained, “Imagine, a hero of uncontrollable blood, trusting so much in his archrival that he lets himself be taken in common stables, bent upon a mere barrel. Anyone could walk in upon their forbidden tryst--”

“Stop, stop!” Inigo hissed, feeling heat spread across his face and ears. “I don’t want anyone walking in on this! You said that stableboy would keep people out in the first place! Speaking of, why is he doing that for you? How do you know he’ll keep his word? Because I certainly don’t trust some random kid!”

“You see, my archrival, I promised to teach him the secret to my heroic techniques,” Owain proclaimed, as if he expected that to be reassuring. Inigo’s darkening face told him otherwise.

“So basically, you promised him nothing useful, and he’s most likely going to tell the first person who asks what he’s doing. Owain, you’re the one trying to hide your problem!” Inigo didn’t bother to hide his exasperation, and Owain’s tone rose to match.

“You don’t want anyone to know either, I bet! Inigo the womanizer, admitting he likes sleeping with men. Which nobody cares about, by the way! Not our parents, and not anyone from our time!”

“I…” Inigo stopped a moment, took a breath, let it out, “... Ok, you know what, this is getting us nowhere. But I’m not sleeping with you anywhere public, and that’s final.”

Owain’s eyes narrowed at the evasion, but he mercifully dropped that particular topic, for now. “We did it in an alley.”

“That was different! I … I panicked. I just wanted to make sure you were ok.” Inigo looked away from Owain’s surprised expression. “Sorry, Owain. If I could do that again, I would’ve just dragged you to my room.” A moment of silence passed.

“Ok. We won’t do it here. But can we still do it today? I don’t know how much longer I can wait without…” Owain trailed off and was silent for another moment. “I’ll even pay for the room. I’m... sorry I dragged you here, Inigo.”

Inigo reluctantly looked back at Owain, and sighed at the sadness on the blonde’s face. “It’s fine, old friend. I guess this isn’t really easy for either of us. So, turn that frown upside down,” Inigo, following his own advice, reached out to clasp Owain on the shoulder, “The ladies of this town will just have to wait for me.”

“I knew you’d come around! Come, my archrival! Let us suppress this demon which torments my every waking moment--”

“It doesn’t actually bother you all the time, does it?” Inigo interrupted with a raised brow. Owain hesitated.

“Well… not all the time,” Owain admitted. “A lot, but… nevermind. Let’s go get a room. … Heh.” Owain smiled as they began walking out, and Inigo raised his other brow.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m just imagining all the times Severa would tell us to get a room, when our arguing got bad. How do you think she’d react if she knew?”

Inigo paled at the thought. “She’d tease me mercilessly, I just know it. Or grump at me, or… something. Let’s not think about that. Oh, look, a door,” and he opened the door to the inn with a bow, letting Owain stride ahead confidently.

Their first time, and also Inigo’s first time, began outside a different inn. It was colder there, and nighttime, and cramped, and emotionally charged. This inn was larger, and cleaner, and the weather was warmer, and the alleys wider. Inigo hoped they wouldn’t have to use an alleyway ever again.

Owain paid for the room and got the keys with fewer theatrics then Inigo expected. The blonde led him upstairs, to a room near the far end of the building. As they walked, Inigo eyed the walls and prayed they were thick: if their first time was anything to go by, Owain would get very loud.

Owain unlocked the door and let his archrival in first with his own odd version of a flourish, to which Inigo bowed and strode in with more confidence then he felt. It was a nice little room, with a single large double-bed by the window, an armoire, a desk with a chair, and a rug in the center. Inigo set his duffel bag down by the bed and stretched out with a sigh.

Owain set his own bag atop the bed and sat next to it, looking up at Inigo with a sheepish grin. “So, um… wanna start kissing, or something?”

Inigo startled out of his stretching and nearly cracked his back in the process. “What?! Wait, wait, we didn’t kiss last time!” he protested, while internally cursing his tendency to easily blush.

“Well no, but,” Owain scratched his blonde head, “Last time, the sensual demon cursing my blood was running rampant!” At Inigo’s blank stare, Owain translated, “I was too desperate to care about foreplay.”

“Oh.” Inigo sighed, and took a sat on the bed beside Owain. He remembered that first time very well, and how frantic his friend had been. He glanced to the blonde, from his grey-green eyes to his freckled cheeks to his clean-shaven jaw. “Ok, well-”

“If you don’t want to do anything,” Owain quickly interrupted, “just say so, and we’ll stop. Anytime at all. We don’t even have to kiss if you don’t want to.”

Inigo nodded, relaxing a little despite himself. “I appreciate that. But, well, I came all this way, so let’s… let’s try it. Don’t worry about me.”

“Worrying about you is half of intimate stuff like this, right?” Owain replied with something like his usual grin. He leaned in towards Inigo and paused, “I really trust you, by the way. Really, thank you. I am really, really grateful.” Inigo felt himself flush deeper at all the praise. Owain smiled, Inigo huffed and, feeling his breath against Owain’s lips, finally leaned in to meet his kiss.

At first, it was awkward. Not for lack of knowledge: Inigo had gotten far enough with flirting to make out in the past, and Owain apparently knew what he was doing. Inigo kept his hands in his lap, then wondered why he bothered, yet still kept them in place with fidgeting fingers. Owain stared into his eyes, until Inigo closed them out of embarrassment. Then Owain began to lean away, and Inigo chased his lips, and without thinking flung his arms around Owain so that he didn’t overbalance.

“Ah! Sorry!” Inigo yelped, but Owain’s arms wrapped around him before he could lean away. Looking up, Inigo realized their faces were nearly touching. Owain’s lips were slightly parted from their brief kissing, his face and neck dusted pink.

“It’s alright. Do you wanna do something else?” Owain asked, uncertainty in his voice. Inigo shifted to get a bit more comfortable in their awkward side-hug, his thigh touching Owain’s, and shook his head.

“No, this is… this is fine. This is more then fine,” Inigo murmured, and resumed their kiss before Owain could worry any further.

Slowly, Inigo relaxed. Gradually, deliberately, his arms slid down until they were wrapped around Owain’s waist. In return, the blonde pulled the half-taguel just a bit closer, muscled arms unevenly curled around Inigo’s shoulders and displacing his floppy ears. Inigo moaned softly, briefly, into Owain’s mouth, despite trying not to, but Owain only smiled and hummed in response.

Just as Inigo had grown comfortable, he felt Owain’s tongue swipe across his lips. The blonde gazed at him, slowing in their kiss, and Inigo shyly parted his lips. Owain winked, right before his tongue dove in to explore Inigo’s mouth with unbound enthusiasm. Inigo startled at first, before he boldly ran his tongue over Owain’s, and soon he was thoroughly distracted by this new sensation.

When Inigo moaned into Owain’s mouth again, he didn’t try to hold back. Calloused fingers trailed up Inigo’s face, curling in his dark hair, and Inigo had no idea he could relax any further until then. The fact that he was melting at all made Inigo shiver, even as he told himself this was normal, the butterflies in his stomach would be there if he kissed anybody and not just his very handsome friend. He was distracted from these thoughts when Owain’s arm left him, palm bracing on the bed before he tried to lay them down. Inigo tensed, and Owain immediately stopped.

“It’s fine, just warn me next time,” Inigo purred with a daring smile. He couldn’t be outdone in the confidence department for long, or so he told himself, and took satisfaction in Owain’s deepening blush. Laying on his side, Inigo patted the space beside him as if this were his idea. Owain obliged, then pulled Inigo into another round of hugging and kissing. Frustratingly, the blonde didn’t let their hips meet.

Inigo immediately slid his tongue in Owain’s mouth, enjoying what had swiftly become his new favorite way to kiss. With his confidence rising further still, Inigo dared to let his hands roam Owain’s body. He felt muscles shift under his gloves, then paused to pull off said gloves. His hands slipped under Owain’s shirt, and he felt the blonde gasp in their kiss as his nimble fingers explored toned, scarred skin.

Not to be outdone, Owain let his already-bare hands slide to the hem of Inigo’s shirt. He grunted when encountering Inigo’s belt, and the dancer chuckled in the kiss. Owain hesitated, then Inigo briefly broke the kiss to murmur, “Hurry up already,” with a laugh before shoving their lips back together. Thus given permission, Owain easily worked Inigo’s belt off, and flung it aside before letting his hands roam under the dancer’s shirt.

“Mmph,” was all Inigo could manage. His shirt was already bunched up from Owain’s eager exploration, and he impatiently pulled it off and away. Owain took the opportunity to be free of his own shirt, then he sat up to kick off his boots. His pants followed suit, and by that point Inigo was also upright and tugging his boots off and pulling Owain into his arms for more frenzied kissing.

Inigo almost complained when Owain broke the kiss again, only to be silenced when the blonde trailed smooches along his smooth jaw, then down his furry neck, then across his fuzzy collarbone. He shivered, letting his fingers slide down along Owain’s side until they reached his hip. His fingers dipped under Owain’s boxers, and the blonde twitched in surprise.

“Yes, Owain?” Inigo asked innocently, letting his digits drift lower to run circles atop the blonde’s butt.

“You’re terrible,” Owain mumbled, while reaching back to reluctantly pry Inigo’s hands away, “Hold on.” Inigo watched Owain tug off his underwear, freeing his half-hard dick, and suddenly Inigo felt his mouth go dry.

“This was your idea,” Inigo pointed out, unconsciously licking his lips. Owain eyed him, then leaned back on both hands with a grin, showing off his toned body; Inigo almost choked.

“Now who's the terrible one?” Inigo muttered. He tugged the rest of his clothes off, and took bashful pride in the way Owain checked him out. “So, what next?”

“Next, you must prepare my body for the ritual,” Owain declared, moving his hand in front of his face again. The slight arch of his back while he was naked and flush with arousal effectively deterred Inigo’s initial sarcastic response.

“Right, so… you brought the stuff this time?” Inigo asked. Owain remained in position for a moment longer, eyes slightly narrowed in thought.

“Yes! I’m pretty sure I did. ... Lemme check.” Owain turned to his bag and dug through it, handing objects over to Inigo as he found them. A few travel-sized bottles of oil, a dildo, and a folded towel passed from Inigo’s hands to the bedside for later use, though the dancer eyed the final item dubiously. Owain lay on his back and stretched out; after watching that, it took Inigo a moment to gather his thoughts.

“You carry this around?” Owain lifted his head at the question and, upon seeing Inigo hold up his towel, looked away sheepishly.

“Well, I do now.” Owain shifted atop the fresh linen of the bed, kicking his feet. “Just in case.” When Inigo continued to stare, Owain sighed, “I did my own laundry last time so that people didn’t ask. So I just keep that around now. Alright?”

Inigo nodded with an apologetic smile, “Of course. Relax, I mostly know what I’m doing.” That made Owain grin again, and Inigo returned it while grabbing a bottle of oil. He curled against Owain and kissed him, briefly, smirking at the blonde’s surprise when he pulled away to dot kisses down Owain’s chest. Inigo pecked one of Owain’s nipples and, feeling the blonde shiver beneath him, experimentally licked it.

“Inigo,” Owain whispered, soft and needy. His husky tone went straight to Inigo’s cock, and the dancer closed his lips around Owain’s hardened bump just to hear more.

“Owain,” Inigo moaned, muffled around Owain’s nipple. He jumped when Owain pulled him up, only to kiss him with sudden, urgent passion. Inigo’s hand drifted across Owain’s chest, toying with tender nubs. Owain’s hands ran along Inigo’s semi-fuzzy body, caressing and touching until the dancer couldn’t stand to wait any longer.

Inigo reluctantly pulled away from Owain, panting softly. His gaze lingering on the blonde’s reddened lips before he managed to ask, “Could I… start stretching you now?”

Owain smiled, his own voice soft, “You’re the one who keeps kissing me.”

“You keep kissing back,” Inigo retorted, despite his own grin. Sitting up, the dancer took a moment to stretch out his arms. He spoke, or would have if Owain hadn’t sat up with him, thighs on either side of his, looming over him with a hazy gaze and hands sliding over his shoulders. “How am I supposed to get anything done when you’re so kissable?” Inigo murmured, leaning up to press their lips together. Owain chuckled quietly, then startled when Inigo’s hands slid under his bottom.

“You’re getting pretty comfortable,” Owain mumbled, eyelids fluttering as Inigo trailed kisses down his neck. “With doing this, anyway-- ah!” interrupting himself with a gasp when he felt a slick digit tease his entrance.

“Of course I am. I just have to pretend you’re a pretty girl,” Inigo teased, squeezing Owain’s bottom as he did so, just to make Owain interrupt his own no-doubt indignant response with a yelp. Inigo pressed a series of wet kisses along Owain’s collar, listening to Owain’s breathing become increasingly unsteady as he worked his finger inside. Once it was in, Inigo began thrusting it slowly, giving Owain’s ass a squeeze as he did so.

“You don’t--” Owain panted, “You don’t actually pretend I’m a girl, right?” Inigo looked up, and though Owain smiled sheepishly, his eyes weren’t quite meeting Inigo’s.

“No,” Inigo admitted. He hid his face in Owain’s neck, listening to his rapid heartbeat, “I don’t.” Inigo nearly said more, but couldn’t quite admit what he barely admitted to himself; instead, the half-taguel nipped his friend’s neck and quipped, “You like this, right?” only to bite his lip when Owain actually moaned.

“Y-yeah… uh, do you?” Owain asked, his fingers guiltily running over the fading pink marks where he’d bitten Inigo a week ago, half-hidden by dark fur. Said fingers grasped at Inigo’s shoulder when the dancer nipped him again, harder.

“I think I do,” Inigo admitted, glad Owain couldn’t see his flushed face. “Go ahead and bite me. You said you’d stop if I asked, so I’m not worried.”

Owain was still for a moment, then leaned down and whispered, breath hot against Inigo’s ear, “I did say that,” before he nipped at the lobe. Inigo shivered with the arousal that sparked down his spine.

“Two can play at this game,” Inigo murmured, vaguely wondering when he’d tilted his head to the side, and when Owain had trailed his kisses down Inigo’s neck. The kisses quickly became rougher bites, until Owain lingered to leave a dark hickey upon the furless part of the dancer’s collar. In return, Inigo worked his digit to the knuckle, moving it in widening circles and groping the blonde’s ass hard, intent on leaving handprints.

After Owain had decorate his chest in various shades of red and purple, Inigo let a second slick finger tease Owain’s rim before steadily pressing it inside. Owain shivered, and mewled, and once Inigo had both digits fully inside, Owain buried his face in Inigo’s dark hair and breathed out shakily.

“So eager,” Inigo teased, taking his time when peppering Owain’s neck in various shades of hickey. Inigo focused on stretching the blonde, enjoying Owain’s shivers and soft moans and the way his sword-calloused hands roamed Inigo’s body.

“I can’t, ah, help it,” Owain groaned. His hips twitched, struggling with the urge to rock against Inigo’s fingers; his untouched cock was dripping all over Inigo’s lap. “Your fingers feel really good in m--” Owain began to say, until suddenly he cried out and arched against Inigo.

“I see that’s easy to find,” Inigo commented. He didn’t think his red flush was purely from embarrassment anymore, and increasingly, he didn’t care. Owain’s moans drove him on, and Inigo pointedly brushed and rubbed and pressed around Owain’s sweet spot with every movement of his digits. With every answering sound, Inigo ravished Owain’s neck and shoulders in kisses and hickies, and Owain returned the favor.

“Oh gods, Inigo, don’t stop,” Owain groaned in response. He bit hard on Inigo’s half-fuzzy shoulder, renewing the old mark; Inigo heard himself groan in return, as each bite throbbed straight to his needy dick. Inigo’s fingers went deep, scissoring Owain pliant, just so the dancer could feel his lover claw at his back with lust.

A particularly prostate-pleasing press had Owain moaning loud, and Inigo stalled for sudden fear of being heard. But nobody knocked on their door, and Owain leaving long marks against his back, dark hickies along his body, and precome all over his thighs was immediately distracting. Inigo pulled back for a moment, looking at the splotches he’d left on Owain, the way the blonde arched and whimpered for more, how horny they both were and how especially hard it was becoming to avoid brushing Owain’s cock.

“Owain,” Inigo paused to swallow, “Owain, if you don’t want me touching your… dick, yet, then we should rearrange--” he stopped as Owain slid off his lap with a dreamy grin. The blonde leaned back on his arms, his sweaty, muscled torso on full display, and legs spread to either side of Inigo.

Inigo found himself swallowing again as he grabbed the oil, re-slicking his fingers along with a third. Slowly, he pressed them inside Owain, watching the blonde’s head tip back, feeling Owain clench around his fingers.

“Oh, Inigo,” Owain moaned, fingers clutching at the bedsheets. He could no longer resist rolling his hips with Inigo’s fingers, rough and wanting. His untouched cock, bobbing with his frantic movements, dripped all over his abs, his thighs, the sheets, Inigo’s wrist. Owain was sure some of the fluid getting everywhere was Inigo’s, but it was hard to focus on the thought with every touch against his sweet spot promising imminent fulfillment.

Unlike Owain, however, Inigo had no need to remain untouched. With his free hand, slightly slick with stray oil, Inigo began tugging himself and groaned at the instant, pulsing relief.

“Next time, touch me a bit more,” Inigo managed between open-mouthed moans. His fingers were thrust hard against Owain’s prostate for emphasis, to which the blonde nodded and begged in barely-indiscernible words, more moaning then language.

“Ahh, yes, please, harder-,” Owain babbled on. He’d fallen back on his forearms at some point, and arched so sharply that Inigo nearly feared for his spine.

When Inigo stretched his trio of digits wide, he watched Owain’s toes curl, gripped himself firmly as the blonde fell apart before his eyes.

“Almost, I think,” Inigo hazarded, and at this point he was certain Owain’s reactions were good. A minute more of stretching and finger-fucking had Owain flat on his back, white-knuckled grip on the bed, and so loud that Inigo was convinced of the walls’ thickness.

Inigo withdrew his fingers slowly, despite Owain’s whimpering and tight clenching around them. He poured the remainder of the first bottle of oil upon his length, shuddering at the initial chill. Tossing the empty vial aside, wincing as it clattered upon the rugless part of floor, Inigo worked the liquid all over his painfully-hard cock until it was thoroughly coated.

Owain shakily got to his feet, then bent over the bed, using his forearms for support. His lustful gaze was locked on Inigo’s glistening cock. Inigo, in turn, eyed Owain: sweaty, panting, thoroughly marked, muscled ass in the air, dripping precome on the poor floor. The towel Owain brought remained folded on the bed, unused and abandoned in the heat of the moment.

“You don’t waste any time, do you?” Inigo asked, not expecting an answer in Owain’s current state; he was pleasantly surprised when the blonde smiled. He returned it, and carefully positioned himself behind Owain. Inigo ran his hands over Owain’s back, feeling shivers under his touch. Owain looked back at him, gripping the sheets, biting his lower lip, and Inigo found himself suddenly unable to wait.

“Let’s get to the main event, shall we?” Inigo gripped his cock, resisting the urge to pleasure himself only with effort, and lined the head up with Owain’s slick, pink hole. Inigo thought of last time, when he came rather fast. This time, he told himself, he’d last longer. As he prepared to push inside, Inigo--

\--moaned loudly when Owain pressed against him, easily taking in the very tip of Inigo’s cock. Inigo’s thoughts fled as he pushed inside, mouth hanging open with unbound moans as hot warmth slowly engulfed his length. He leaned over Owain’s shuddering form, sliding his arms under Owain’s chest as their hips gradually met. Inigo panted hard, adjusting to Owain’s spastic clenching and needy noises, all of these sensations gathering as warmth in his core. He could hear Owain’s heartbeat, and heard his own was just as rapid.

“Ready?” Inigo gasped, and Owain quickly nodded. The dancer needed no further encouragement; with their closeness, he began grinding against Owain’s ass. Owain hung his head and rolled his hips in return, and Inigo quickly found himself graduating to short, shaky thrusts, barely keeping himself from hammering away. Every movement had Owain mirroring it in no time, hot and wet and tight inside. His voice cracked with his constant moaning and gasping and pleading Inigo’s name.

Intent on lasting longer, Inigo nipped at Owain’s upper back to distract himself. Unfortunately for him, Owain lifted his head to moan beautifully, and Inigo was inspired to thrust harder. Finding an unmarked spot upon the blonde’s shoulderblade, Inigo bit hard and lingered, leaving a dark, lasting hickey.

The dancer fucked shallowly into Owain a few more times before he caved in. Straightening, Inigo grabbed Owain’s hips and began slow, angling his thrusts even as Owain shifted his hips to meet them; Owain’s startled moan signaled that Inigo found his sweet spot. Then Inigo began to fuck him good and hard, pounding Owain’s prostate with every movement. Owain cried out with every motion, clawing at the bed as each thrust rocked him against the bed and rumpled the sheets.

Inigo didn’t care about noise anymore. The slapping of flesh was a building beat to their harsh breathing and loud moans. Owain raised his ass for every thrust, meeting Inigo’s hips perfectly. Unbearable warmth filled Inigo, building towards a crescendo. He squeezed Owain’s hips hard, and on a whim slapped Owain’s ass just to feel his blonde lover stutter from pleasure.

Owain’s breathing hitched, and his back arched up as he cried out in near-breathless ecstasy. His insides clamped down taut and spastic around Inigo, while the dancer clawed Owain’s hips as he thrust into his tight friend. It wasn’t long before Inigo was coming too, spilling inside Owain until he slumped atop his friend. Even then, Owain remained stiff until his first dry orgasm finally ended. Inigo squeezed his eyes shut at Owain’s needy whine.

“Your… your stamina… is something else,” Inigo panted. He stood on shaky legs, pulling his softening cock out and flushing as his seed dripping down Owain’s thighs. Owain trembled visibly, yet he crawled atop the bed and rolled on his back, holding his legs apart by his thighs. Inigo stared at Owain’s nebulous gaze, the way his lower lip was bright red with his constant biting, and swallowed.

“Ok,” Inigo began, eyeing Owain and the bed, “Give me space to sit, my legs are getting tired.” He watched Owain shuffle to the head of the bed before resuming his position. Inigo gratefully sat before Owain’s spread legs, letting his own shaky limbs rest while he grabbed the dildo and one of the unopened bottles of oil.

After a brief struggle with the cap, Inigo managed to open the bottle and dribble some of the liquid upon the dildo. Inigo made sure he was comfortably seated before pressing the head against Owain’s hole, which was practically trying to suck the toy in. Inigo slid the toy inside slowly, despite Owain’s eager whimper, and it hilted in no time.

“Tell me if you need… anything,” Inigo finished lamely. Owain just nodded, far too horny to care. Without further ado, for none was needed, Inigo began sliding the toy in and out of Owain. He started slow, but Owain’s pleading moans convinced him to speed up quickly. Inigo found himself leaning over Owain, one arm propping him up as he pumped the dildo in and out of his friend, specifically hitting his sweet spot.

Owain had a bruising grip on his own thighs, head tilted back on the pillows as he moaned with every gasping breath. Steady pressure clashed with the waves of electric pleasure from his prostate, until he peaked to a crescendo. Inigo’s name was barely discernible on his lips in his orgasmic babble, and he rode the thick toy until he finally came down.

Except Owain’s climax built again, and again, each time strong enough that he’d no idea how long he was peaking for. Each time, he groaned and writhed and drowned in pleasure. His voice, despite being used to loudness, was growing raw. His legs wrapped around Inigo’s waist, then unwrapped when he got too tired, and he let them free while his hands grasped at the bed. One dry orgasm happened after another, until there was only the steady pleasure of being fucked.

When Owain’s roughly half-a-dozen string of dry orgasms seemed to end, Inigo let go of the dildo to stretch out his poor, tired arms. Owain, shivering with arousal, stared at Inigo pleadingly. Inigo sighed, but it was good-natured, and picked up the dildo again only for Owain to shake his head.

“Tired of your toy already?” Inigo raised a brow, only for Owain to nod.

“You didn’t bring any others, did you?” Inigo asked. Owain stared at him for a moment, then smiled sheepishly.

“Well, what do you want, then? Use your words, you’re usually good at that.” Inigo grinned at Owain’s answering huff, then watched as the blonde sat up on very shaky limbs. Owain panted for a moment, then reached down and spread his pinkened cheeks, staring at Inigo’s half-hard cock pointedly.

Inigo’s eyes widened, “Again? You like me that much?” He teased, only to fluster at Owain’s earnest nod. “Oh, well… I suppose it’s been enough time for me, so uh. Get comfortable, and let’s finish this?” he suggested, to which Owain nodded in confirmation. Inigo privately sighed in relief.

Owain eyed the bed for a moment, then lay on his side, topmost leg pulled up to his chest. He eyed Inigo, and Inigo eyed him before commenting, “How many sexual positions have you invented?” Owain grinned; Inigo sighed. “Right, look who I’m asking.” The dancer climbed over his friend, eyeing him over: sweaty, panting, pale green gaze locked on his. As Inigo worked himself back to hardness, he couldn’t help but muse aloud, “How do you manage, despite all this, to look so good?”

Owain’s eyes widened at the compliment. His mouth worked for a moment, and when he managed to speak it was husky and raw and Inigo had to lean in to hear. “You are magnificent.”

Inigo’s grip on his cock, re-spreading oil over himself, stuttered. Inigo stared at his friend, feeling his face and neck and chest flush deeper from something other then arousal. His heart fluttered, and in that moment, Inigo embraced it. He leaned down, arms on either side of Owain’s prone form. With the taller blonde’s bent leg in the way, he couldn’t quite reach Owain’s mouth, but he made do with seeing that freckled face.

Inigo rubbed his slick cock against Owain’s ass, nearly slipping in with how wet and ready the blonde still was. Owain pressed against him and whined; Inigo was held fast by his hazy gaze. Inigo gave in, and slowly penetrated. His cock slid in with ease, and his hips met Owain’s in record time.

Owain trembled with the need to move, but unlike the dancer, he didn’t need to readjust. Inigo, however, stalled; the sensation around his cock was familiar enough, if slicker and already clamping around him. After a minute, Inigo began to move, slowly, enjoying the new angle and the way Owain moaned, raspy, then breathless when Inigo quickly relocated his prostate. Which was the whole point, Inigo supposed, before his thoughts melted in the face of pleasure.

Owain would’ve been glad for the pillows under his head, which kept his skull from bouncing against the headboard, but he was in no frame of mind to even notice. At some point, Inigo had grabbed his topmost leg and held it, and Owain was free to claw at the damp, rumpled bed sheets. It wasn’t long before Owain was back to a breathless, raspy mess, insides clamping around Inigo with an utter lack of rhythm. Something about the fact it was Inigo fucking him made the intense pressure inside build hotter than it would from anything else.

Owain gasped, glossy eyes spilling over as he rose to another peak. His clamping muscles fluttered around Inigo’s cock, and said dancer fucked him even harder in the throes of bliss. Just as Owain’s peak was falling, another claimed him, and another, and all the while the pressure building inside him increased until he felt the inevitable approaching. Throughout, Inigo rubbed his bruised thigh and thrust into him fluidly, his own cries signaling he was close again.

Owain keened out something that didn’t sound like begging or Inigo’s name, so the dancer leaned in a bit closer and gasped, “What?”

“G-gonna c-come,” Owain panted, so breathless and raspy that Inigo had to read his reddened lips to understand. Inigo nodded, reluctantly letting go of Owain’s leg. He waited until the shaky blonde had regained a grasp upon the limb, then reached with his now-free hand to curl his fingers around Owain’s aching, half-hard cock.

Owain jerked from the touch, keening as he struggled to buck both into Inigo’s hands and against his hips. Inigo shivered from the desperate sounds, and managed to pump Owain’s cock in time with each thrust until he came. He lost rhythm and simply slammed into Owain again and again, grip tight around his friend.

Owain climaxed shortly after and, with his cock finally getting touched, he came hard. Inigo’s grip tightened around his dick as Owain’s pent-up release became a white mess over the wall, thankfully missing the window. Every pulse of tightening muscles around Inigo’s cock kept him shuddering at the hips, until Owain was finally done.

Owain trembled with the residual pleasure radiating in waves throughout his body. He felt Inigo flop against him, both of them sweating and panting hard. Eventually, Inigo sat up and stretched with a groan.

“We should’ve put the towel down first,” Inigo observed. He glanced to Owain, who was staring off into space with a half-lidded, blissed-out expression; despite this, he still panted and shivered. “I’ll just wait until you’re… normal again. Normal for you, anyway.”

While Owain was coming down from his high, or so Inigo assumed, the dancer grabbed the towel. It had been left at the other end of the bed, forgotten, and now Inigo used it to try and wipe copious amounts of come off the wall. Once he was satisfied, he folded the now-filthy towel and left it on the desk.

Inigo eyed the sheets, then abruptly decided the maids could handle the rest. Instead, he curled against Owain’s chest. Owain shivered briefly, then sighed and draped an arm around Inigo.

“Feeling better?” Inigo murmured, and he felt Owain nod against his scalp. He tried to think of some wisecrack, but was too tired to bother. The occasional tremor still ran through Owain, but the blonde seemed perfectly fine.

“Thanks,” Owain’s response was soft and rough and murmured into Inigo’s head. The dancer blushed, but decided to enjoy it.

“No problem,” Inigo yawned, “If you don’t mind, I’m going to sleep now.” The last sound Owain made was a grunt of agreement before he relaxed, apparently drifting off. Inigo decided he could get used to this just as he, too, fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owain squinted blearily at the light shining in his face. The sun greeted him from beyond the window, marking the rapid decline of evening. He was pretty sure a couple hours had passed, and didn’t really care. Nuzzling Inigo’s dark hair, Owain enjoyed the lingering high and the warm, handsome half-taguel cuddling into him. Unfortunately, Inigo was also stirring.

“What time issit?” Inigo mumbled. He turned away from the light, hiding his face against Owain’s neck with a sleepy sigh.

“The lady of daylight is descending into slumber, though her rays seek a final farewell.” Owain yawned after this bout of poetic speech.

Inigo leaned back, head lifted slightly to stare at Owain. Half of his brown hair was plastered to the side of his face, and the rest of it stuck out in a terrible case of bedhead; his ears were flopped all about. Owain felt bold enough to run his hand through Inigo’s messy locks, to which the dancer blushed furiously.

Instead of protesting, Inigo simply pressed his face against the crook of Owain’s neck again, effectively hiding it. “Does sex always bring out your cuddly side? Because, don’t… don’t tell anyone that I enjoy it.”

Owain chuckled, feeling more awake by the moment, “Your secret's safe with me, my arch-rival. It’s the least I can do.” He felt Inigo shake his head a little, then he tensed.

“Wait,” Inigo mumbled. Owain watched as the dancer drew away again, eyes widening, “Did we have to report in tonight?” Owain mulled over the question while Inigo’s gaze roamed, the dancer’s blush deepening upon seeing the darkened marks littering Owain’s neck and shoulders.

“... Maybe?”

Inigo sighed, “Oh well. I’ll just have to visit what I can of town tonight, a-although I, um… I did enjoy this. I mean, I know it’s to help with your problem, but…” he trailed off and sat up before he could see Owain’s face, “Anyways, we should get going.”

Owain sat up stiffly, stretching his spine out with a grunt. He smiled at Inigo, still a little dreamy, and his “Perhaps we could--” was interrupted by a loud knock at their door.

“Hold on!” Inigo yelped, practically jumping out of bed in sudden search for his clothes. He regretted it an instant later when his sore body protested, but ignored the aches for the sake of his dignity. When Owain dangled his legs off the side, apparently intending to stand, Inigo quickly pushed him back on the stained sheets, “Oh no, oh no no, let me handle this. You look like you had sex.”

Owain narrowed his eyes at Inigo, who was just pulling his shirt on. “So do you.” Owain sat up again, looking at their discarded garments on the floor. “But just this once, I shall allow you to handle our visitor.”

“That’s so kind of you,” Inigo replied with great sarcasm. The knocking resumed, and he called, “H-hold on! Almost done!” just as he was hopping into his pants. Inigo rushed to the door, paused to smooth back his messy hair and readjust his ears, and stood in front of the opening to block any view of the room itself. “Hello there-- what’re you doing here?!”

“Hi!” Cynthia chirped, her usual cheery grin fading as she looked Inigo over. “Are you ok? Were you attacked?!” She tried to peer into the room, but couldn’t see past Inigo, who kept the door barely open. He faintly heard Owain chuckle.

“I’m fine, Cynthia, I just, uh… slept in. But really, what are you doing here?” Inigo used his best smile, but Cynthia was now looking at some crumpled bit of paper in her hands.

“Frederick sent me to find everybody who went into town, because we had to go out early tomorrow and he wanted to make sure everyone was in camp before it got dark, so he gave me this list of people and here I am! I had to ask around all the inns in town to find you! I mean, there’s only three of ‘em, but the search is nothing to a seasoned hero like me!” Cynthia grinned up at Inigo, then continued rambling before he could speak, “You and Owain were the last people I had to find! He’s in here with you, right?” Her eyes widened with realization, “Whoa, wait! Did you guys get into a fight?”

“No, we didn’t get into a fight,” Inigo sighed, running his hand down his face in exasperation. “Really, we just slept in…” he trailed off, feeling the hickies that his wide-open collar exposed, and flushed darkly. “... Uh, this is from tripping. I tripped, and… hit my chest on the desk. These rooms have desks, you know.”

Cynthia’s eyes narrowed, “That’s not true! I trip all the time, and I never get any marks like that!” Inigo cringed at his poor choice of excuse as she continued, “Spill it, buster! What villain tried to beat you up? Name the fiend, and the Justice Cabal shall smite them!”

Inigo risked a glance over his shoulder. Owain sat naked on the bed in the same spot as he had been before, nervous stare trained upon Inigo. With a swallow, Inigo looked back to Cynthia and leaned in close to the pegasus rider, “Listen, Cynthia. You’re a good friend of mine, right?” She nodded. “Right. Always cheering me on. Can you keep a secret?”

Cynthia’s eyes widened, and she nodded so enthusiastically that her twintails bobbed with her, “Yeah! You can trust me with any secret, Inigo!” she declared loudly. Inigo winced.

“Great, listen. You know how I keep trying to get lucky with the ladies?” Cynthia nodded again, and Inigo smiled as he continued, “Well, I, uh… I got lucky. Don’t tell anyone, ok?”

“You finally found someone?” Cynthia grinned, but it wasn’t as chipper as usual, “That’s good! Congratulations! I told you that you’d do it someday…” she sighed, deflating a bit, “So, uh… I guess I’ll go find Owain now.”

“Oh, uh, don’t worry about looking for him. I saw him earlier.” It wasn’t quite a lie, but the words sat uncomfortably on Inigo’s tongue. “I think he’s heading back to camp now, so go ahead and tell Frederick we’ll both be back soon.” Cynthia nodded, but as she turned away, Inigo couldn’t help but ask, “Wait a moment, Cynthia. Why are you so down, my friend? You know I can’t stand to see a pretty girl look so sad.”

Cynthia stopped, and for a moment Inigo thought she would keep going. But then she turned, and her teary gaze bored into Inigo, and he winced, and she hung her head before saying, “I was just… I mean, it’s just you and me here, so I thought this would be a great time to tell you something. But, you’ve found someone you like, so that’s fine.”

Inigo paled with budding realization, “Wait, Cynthia, what are you saying?”

“I like you, Inigo. I cheered you on because I wanted you to be happy.” Cynthia looked up at him, and balled her fists, and her expression became determined, “And that’s ok! I still want you to be happy because you’re my friend! So I’m glad you found someone, and I’m going to keep supporting you because I’m glad we’re friends! So!” Cynthia took a deep breath, “I’m going to go back to camp now! And when I see Owain, I’ll just ask him if he likes me! Because I like both of you, and it’s ok if he says no, because I’m still glad we’re all friends! So! I’ll see you later! And if your new lover does anything to mistreat you, let me know and I’ll knock ‘em flat!” As Inigo gaped at this speech, Cynthia turned and bolted down the hallway.

Inigo continued to stare at the empty spot where she’d been before he managed to close the door, and turn to face the room. Owain stared back at him in disbelief. As Inigo sat beside the blonde, Owain chuckled nervously.

“Did… did you know?” Owain asked. When Inigo just put his head in his hands, Owain continued, “I mean, I didn’t know that she liked me, but I’m not great on picking up on that… but you didn’t know either?”

“No, I didn’t,” Inigo sighed. He flopped back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. Then he grimaced. “The sheets are still dirty, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, they are,” Owain admitted, with an apologetic grin. 

Inigo flung an arm over his face. “Sigh. I should’ve asked her out sooner. Why didn’t I? She always supported me, through every rejection, even the ones that ended with me getting punched or stolen from. And now she’s going to ask you out, when you’re the one I’m sleeping with.”

Owain lay down beside him, sliding an arm under Inigo’s head and snuggling up, which Inigo allowed. “Well… look at it this way,” Owain began, “We could just tell her. If she likes us both, and we both like her, and we’re already sleeping together--”

“Tell her!? You’re the one with a secret to keep,” Inigo bemoaned, “No, if we say nothing, I can suffer in silence. … Girls like stoic, mysterious suffering, right?”

Owain frowned at the ceiling, “Or we could ask for advice… or something. We wouldn’t be the only ones in a relationship with multiple people, so it wouldn’t be too odd… at least in the Shepherds.”

“You’re awfully relaxed about this,” Inigo groused. Despite his words, he spent a moment in silent contemplation. Then he had an idea. “Listen, Owain. We could just ask how they do it.”

“How who does it?” Owain asked, head lifting slightly to better see Inigo’s face. Inigo obligingly removed his arm from his face to grin at Owain.

“How one has more than one partner, of course. We could ask Gerome and Severa’s parents, right? No, wait, that would be awkward. Oh, wait,” Inigo added, before Owain could pipe up, “Let’s just ask Noire, that would be less weird. Better yet, I’ll ask her. I have to ask Brady something, anyway.”

Owain nodded, completely trusting, “Ok. I’ll just tell Cynthia… something if she asks me.”

“I hope you figure that out soon,” Inigo commented dryly. He sat up and stretched, “I’d better go take a bath. You should, too, if you don’t want people asking questions.” 

As Inigo collected his duffel bag, Owain stood and stretched gingerly, then struck his customary pose, “I thank you for sustaining my unlimited power on this fateful day, old friend. I shall await you back at the camp of this time.”

“I’ll see you later,” Inigo replied, about to leave when Owain stepped in front of him. He stared up at his slightly-taller friend, at the grey-green eyes that still glowed with the aftereffects of their lovemaking.

“Wait one moment, Inigo of the Indigo Skies. I wish to bestow a blessing upon you for your service.” Inigo raised a brow, wholly unprepared when Owain swept him into strong arms and kissed him soundly. Inigo melted into it, and all too soon Owain pulled away, his grin softened, his freckles backlit with pink. “Thank you for this. I’ll see you later.”

“I’ll see you later,” Inigo parroted, and found himself grinning. He stepped out of the room, closed the door, then leaned back against the door and seriously reconsidered how he felt about his rival-friend-lover.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully the characterization for these two is better. Also, thank you to my beta readers, and thank you to everyone keeping up with this series! This is the biggest single fic I’ve written so far, and as of this writing, it’s not even done yet, holy heck. First posted Ch1: 2/10/2018. Edited Ch1: 4/22/2018.


	2. Figuring Things Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inigo seeks the advice of those better versed in non-monogamous relationships, among other things. Owain tries not to run into Cynthia until Inigo gets said advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, thank you for reading! Quick note, I added some parts to Midnight Withdrawal, and made some minor edits to Morning Agreement and to the previous chapter of this fic to match [ex. Inigo is now half-taguel], so I recommend skimming at least MW again if you’ve the chance, otherwise the plot is pretty much the same.

The Shepherds’ camp was settling down for the evening, though spirits remained high enough that Inigo heard laughter from some of the tents he passed by. Humming a Valmese tune, the mercenary was as excited as the others to head back to the harbor and thus back to Ylisse. But unlike his comrades in arms, the half-taguel had something to do before he slept.

There were three large tents set aside for medical use, and each had a healer or two, assuming said healers weren’t needed together or elsewhere or wherever. Lissa and Maribelle shared a tent, Libra had his own, and Brady had his own; it was this last which Inigo sought as he strode through camp.

His humming softened to silence as he walked. He glanced around to be sure he was alone, even though he knew it was silly to worry. Inigo took a deep breath and let it out, trying to focus on his task and dispel certain memories from the previous day.

Inigo’s thoughts were straying, against his will, to a particular part where Owain was moaning his name. He looked away as if averting his gaze would banish the memory, turned a corner, and bumped into a familiar yellow body. “Ack-- O-Owain!?”

“Your devious plan to stop me shall not unfold this day, arch-rival,” Owain declared with his usual dramatic posing. “The twilight secrets of the training yard will be mine to discover!”

“You do that,” Inigo replied dryly, hoping his faint blush was invisible in the dim starlight. “I’ll just go talk to Noire now, assuming she’s with Brady.” He noticed Owain tense up, and sighed. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I won’t tell them who I’m asking for, I promise. Just go enjoy your ‘twilight training.’”

Owain relaxed, and grinned with a touch of sheepishness. “I shall, though you will be hard-pressed to pry from me the ancient techniques I shall discover on this night!” The myrmidon took a step as if to walk away, then halted and leaned in to the half-taguel to whisper, “Thank you. We’ll solve this, don’t worry.” Inigo’s eyes widened as he turned to face the other, but the blonde was already fast-walking away.

A couple dozen steps later saw Inigo standing before the simple tent that Brady used. He took another breath, cleared his throat, and carefully called out, “Anybody home?”

Inigo’s sharp ears picked up faint, familiar grumbling. Then a very familiar orange-haired head poked out with the usual squint. “What? Someone hurt?”

“No one’s hurt, Brady, but I was hoping to speak to Noire. Have you seen her?” Inigo smiled casually. The priest, who knew better, narrowed his already-squinty eyes with suspicion.

To the dancer’s surprise, Brady finally replied, “Wait here a tic,” before ducking back into the tent. Inigo strained, and he could almost hear people speaking within. He stepped away from the flap before it opened again, hoping the priest didn’t know he had been listening in. But Brady simply said, “Aight, c’mon in,” and led him inside.

Inside, the tent was dark and smelled of various medicines. The few cots Inigo saw were empty, and halfway in was a flap separating the tent into two sections. A faint light illuminated the other side, where he could just make out a figure, or maybe two, amidst other shadowy shapes.

Brady led him straight to the back section, where the healing supplies rested. Stacks of boxes, staves leaning against them, and a foldable table with some chairs were arranged neatly. Taking up two of these chairs were Severa and Noire; their soft conversation had stopped as soon as Inigo stepped in. Brady pulled up a chair for him, then took the other seat beside Noire.

“Hello, Inigo,” Noire’s soft voice broke the silence. “I didn’t think you wanted to, um, see me again, since Robin asked me to stop watching you.”

“Well, I,” Inigo began, until Severa glared at him. He cleared his throat. “I mean, that put a damper on our friendship, but now that you’re done imitating your mother-” he almost choked as he physically felt Severa’s glare intensify. “A-anyways, don’t worry about it.”

Noire frowned uncertainty, “Well, alright. Thank you for, um, not holding that against me, Inigo. But what did you need? It’s pretty late.”

“Don’t you have someone else to guilt-trip?” Severa snarked. Noire grasped her hand, and the mostly-redhead huffed. “This had better be important.”

“It is!” Inigo protested. He ignored the looks from Noire’s partners and put his smile back on. “I’m just looking for some help. You see, I-- err, a friend,” he quickly corrected, to which Brady raised a brow, “is having a problem with… uh, see, my friend is kind of with a friend, but there’s a third friend who wants to be with the first friend. She-- the third friend also likes the first friend, but sh-- they think the first friend is taken. But, uh, the second friend likes h-- third friend too, and vice versa, and we-- my friends don’t want to hurt her, so, my friend asked me to get advice.” The half-taguel finished his rambling with a nervous excuse for his usual smile and a pink-tinted face, hoping his flimsy story would fool them.

Noire, Severa, and Brady simply stared as they each worked through the rambling, vague explanation. Inigo fidgeted under their unfocused stares. Eventually, Severa shared an annoyed glance with Noire, who was failing to suppress a smile. Brady just shook his head.

“Obviously, your ‘friends’,” Severa even did the finger thing, “need to confess, gods. But in a classy way.”

Brady raised a brow. “Classy? Why’s it gotta be classy?” He looked to Inigo with a sigh. “Listen, just tell ‘em how you feel. Get it over with, and things’ll work out after that.”

Before the half-taguel could reply, Severa scoffed. “You can’t _just_ tell them! You have to have flowers and chocolates and,” she winked, “atmosphere. Like on a clear night, or at some beautiful place, or something.”

“Listen, Sev,” Brady began, before Noire could jump in, “all he gotta do is just tell em, straight-up. You don’t gotta get fancy.”

“Wait,” Noire quickly intervened, “wait. Um, basically, Inigo, you should tell them, but a gift wouldn’t hurt?” She glanced between her partners as she suggested this. Severa reluctantly nodded, and Brady shrugged. The archer turned back to Inigo with a sheepish smile. “I hope that helps you-- your ‘friends’.”

“My friends, yeah,” Inigo swallowed nervously. “But… is it really that simple? We-- I mean, they just need to talk to each other?”

“Well, it’s not really simple,” Noire admitted. She squeezed Severa’s and Brady’s hands. “It can be nerve-wracking, and it’s harder to be with two people instead of one, and you might have to, um, work through jealousy or … or other feelings.” Severa’s eyes darted away; Noire squeezed her hand again and offered her a smile. “But if you, um, talk about things, and work things out together, then you should be fine.”

“It helps if your lovers are already friends,” Brady added with a minor sniffle, earning a slight smile from Severa that faded quickly before Inigo could comment on it.

Inigo suddenly felt as if he were intruding, and cleared his throat awkwardly. “That sounds pretty realistic. Uh, I’ll be sure to tell my friends, but--”

“No buts!” Brady interjected with a scowl. The faint candlelight revealed his watery eyes. “Look, I know that sounds like lovey-dovey malarkey, but that’s how it works. Just talk to ‘em, and make sure ya keep talkin’ to em. It ain’t worth the hurt and misunderstandin’ and tears if ya don’t, alright?” He sniffled, and accepted a tissue from Noire. Apparently, she kept them on hand.

“So go talk to them,” Severa added, making a shooing motion with her free hand, “Gods, Inigo, two people who can stand you _and_ want to date you? What are you waiting for? Go tell them how you feel!”

“Alright, alright!” Inigo protested as he felt his face turn a deep shade of red. “I’ll go tell them, I swear!” He stood and smiled weakly, “... And, thanks, all of you.”

“No problem, Inigo,” Noire replied quietly with a smile of her own. “And, um, g-goodluck.”

The half-taguel turned to go, then suddenly remembered his other reason for coming here. “Actually, Brady, could I have a quick word with you? In private?”

Brady raised a brow, but shrugged and stood. He whispered something to Noire and, after she nodded, he turned to face Inigo. “Yeah, sure, come on.”

They returned to the front half of the tent, where the cots lay empty. Inigo glanced around anyway, straining his sensitive ears. Once he was sure they were alone, he still stepped close to Brady and spoke softly, “Brady, my friend, my buddy, uh. My trustworthy old friend from childhood-”

“Get on with it,” Brady muttered in return.

“Fine, fine,” the half-taguel smiled despite his renewed nervousness. “So, uh. How do you help someone with an addiction problem?” At Brady’s startled expression, he quickly added, “I’m asking for a friend, I swear.”

“Inigo, if you got a problem--”

“Its for a friend,” Inigo insisted, letting his voice raise a little.

Brady shook his head, but there was concern in his gruff expression. “Alright, alright, got it. Look, addictions ain’t my specialty. Most I can tell ya is don’t quit cold turkey, and try to take a bit less of whatever it is every time ya take it. Other then that, I can’t help ya.” The priest eyed Inigo over. “You ever need to talk about it, you know most’ve us would listen. Hell, I’m sure Ma could find somethin--”

“It’s for a friend!” Inigo practically yelled before cringing. “Nevermind. Thank you, I’ll tell my friend. Goodnight, Brady,” and he rushed out of the tent, fully intending to sleep on all the advice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Owain made it to the training grounds without running into anyone else, as most of the Shepherds were getting ready to sleep. The current training area consisted of a cleared space with some simple dummies, which would no doubt be removed come morning. After doing a few stretches, the myrmidon began practicing. Or rather, he tried out some fancy, dramatic attacks while trying not to outright shout their names as he did them.

Owain was so focused on his special, secret training that he didn’t notice when someone else approached. It wasn’t until he was pivoting for an ultra cool whirlwind-y attack when he turned and saw Cynthia’s beaming face. He froze, and felt himself grow pale, and then he babbled before she could talk, “Cynthia, fellow member of the Justice Cabal! You’ve surprised me on this night of solo-training, where I am deep in training, solo, where I must remain, for days, training. Solo!”

“Your solo-training doesn’t last for days,” Cynthia argued, her smile turning into a frown. Owain internally cursed because she was completely right. “Besides, I gotta ask you something really important!”

Owain cringed. He’d hoped to buy enough time for him and Inigo to figure out what to do. But Cynthia was his friend, obviously he could handle this, probably. Striking a very serious pose, he declared, “Then I have time to listen, my righteous companion!”

“Great! But can we go somewhere private to talk? My words aren’t meant for unworthy ears!” Cynthia posed with him, and for a moment Owain’s worry vanished. He nodded seriously to match his serious pose. She grinned, and he broke into a return grin before she turned and led him through camp. They wound between tents, seeking a good spot, before finally settling on the nearby field. It kept the Shepherds’ camp in view, yet they could be distant enough to keep their conversation private. Unless either of them shouted, which was likely.

“My attention is yours, Cynthia. Pose your questions, and I shall rip the answers from my very being,” Owain promised, despite his anxiety. The long, winding trip out to the field hadn’t helped his nerves.

“Right! So,” Cynthia hesitated and even began to fidget. She leaned down, plucked some small flowers from the field, and began ripping their petals off. “So, we’ve been friends for awhile, and, um.” Her gaze was on her hands, avoiding Owain’s face. “We’ve been through a lot, and we could still die at any time…” the last petals fell to the ground, along with the flowers. She looked to Owain, eyes glittering faintly in the starlight. She sighed and smiled nervously, “I… I like you, Owain. More than I like my friends. I--”

“Wait!” Owain interrupted. Emotions fought one another inside him: giddiness, guilt, uncertainty. He tried to keep his shaky voice relatively calm, but his success was minimal. “I’m honored by your… your affection, and it is,” he swallowed, but couldn’t remove the heat from his cheeks, “it is returned. I would be the luckiest man alive to be with your ray of light, and yet I… it’s, um. It’s not that simple.”

Cynthia’s hopeful smile vanished, and Owain’s guilt strengthened in equal measure. “What do you mean? Are you…” she trailed off, eyes widening with realization. “... Oh. You’re already with Inigo, aren’t you?”

Owain paled. “Wait, how--”

Cynthia turned away, her voice quivering. “No, it’s ok. I kinda guessed after Inigo told me he was with someone, and the innkeeper had already told me you two shared a room, so,” she swallowed. “Don’t worry about it. I’m happy for you guys. I’m… I’m glad you’re happy together.”

“Cynthia, wait,” Owain protested, quieter then his usual tone. He stepped next to her, wincing as her teary gaze was turned to him. “We’re not really… ‘together’,” he admitted, despite the ache his words brought. “We’re just… he’s just helping me with a problem.” Cynthia frowned a little, uncertainty on her face, and he quickly added, “Wait, let me get Inigo and… and we can talk. Please?”

Cynthia looked away and wiped at her eyes, silent. Owain began to fear she wouldn’t respond, but finally she murmured, softly, “Ok, Owain. I… I’ll talk to you two, but… really, I’m ok with you guys being together. I’d rather… at least be friends still.”

“We can be,” Owain promised as his heart hurt. “But… but maybe we don’t have to settle for that.” She looked back to him, confused. “I just… we should include Inigo in this conversation.”

Cynthia nodded slowly, her expression uneasy but determined. “Alright, Owain, I’ll talk with you guys.”

Owain managed to smile nervously. He hoped Inigo was ready.


	3. Commitment: Flower Trio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Owain, Inigo, and Cynthia resolve their feelings.

The sun was rising, and it threw warm shades of color across the sky. Inigo looked up at the natural canvas, humming as he walked through camp. In one hand he held flowers, yellow and blue; in the crook of his other arm was a box of assorted chocolates. His nerves forbade him from waiting any longer. Inigo swallowed as he wandered through camp, first seeking his friend-with-benefits.

“No,” Inigo told himself, “he’s… more than that.” Inigo would die for Owain, and vice versa. Their teasing would get relentless, but they had each other’s backs. Theirs was a friendship forged in tragedy and death, and the half-taguel finally admitted to himself that their relationship was becoming something different.

Inigo was so lost in thought that he nearly ran right into Owain again. Before he could say a word, Owain grabbed him by the shoulders and whispered urgently, “Inigo, where have you been!? I can’t keep Cynthia waiting! Wait, what’s with the flowers?”

“Nevermind the flowers, why are you talking to Cynthia!?” Inigo hissed, grip tightening on the poor flowers’ green stems. “I thought we agreed not to talk to her until we figured out what to say!”

“She found me first!” Owain protested loudly; Inigo cringed. “Look, just come with me, and we can tell her what’s going on, and figure something out.”

“Fine,” Inigo sighed, letting Owain lead him to a clearing outside camp. Cynthia was sitting among the grass; as they joined her, she looked up and smiled. Inigo winced at the redness around her eyes.

“Sorry about the wait,” Owain said instantly, guilt bare on his face. “I just thought morning would be better...”

“We don’t have to do this,” Cynthia pointed out; her smile was an obvious attempt at keeping a brave face. “If you two are happy--”

“We’re not even dating!” Inigo said, noting Owain’s wince. “We’re… Owain picked up a problem, and I’m helping him with it. We’re… we’re just friends. With benefits.”

“Oh… wait, but what are the flowers for?” Cynthia asked. Owain opened his mouth to answer, then stopped and looked to Inigo, confused.

“I…” Inigo looked to the flowers, then the box of chocolates, feeling his face grow red. “Well, I was thinking, um… of… giving these to some people I really like, because… because…” he swallowed, “Um… because… why not… all of us?”

Cynthia and Owain both stared at him blankly. Then Owain’s face turned pink, “Oh, wait, you… I thought you just liked Cynthia that way--”

“Wait, you like me back?” Cynthia asked, eyes growing wide. “Oh, but… I already told Owain I like him--”

“Hold on,” Inigo interrupted them, before the confusion could spiral out of control. He was uncomfortably hot and sweaty. “I… I like you both. I like you both a lot.” He looked away at Owain’s shocked expression, feeling a stab of guilt. “I just figured, ah, after getting some sage advice, well… if we all like each other, why don’t we just… try dating each other?” His voice cracked on the question, and it was an effort of will to not run and hide somewhere.

The silence stretched on for what felt like hours, though Inigo knew it was only minutes. He was going over nearby hiding places in his head when he fell over with a yelp; Owain had tackled him, unintentionally knocked him over, and held him with a hug and a wet faced pressed against one of his ears.

“I’d feared,” Owain gasped when he could speak, “that my affection was one-sided! That my offer of,” he swallowed back a sniffle, “trusting myself to you was selfish, but… but if you really l-like me back, and…” he choked up.

“Whoa, calm down,” Inigo tried to joke with a smile, though he felt his own eyes grow wet. “I… I do like you back, Owain. I’m sorry I never said anything, but… well, you know me. I--oof!” he grunted as Owain sat them both up, though didn’t let go. Then Inigo grunted again when Cynthia’s arms were flung around him, too. “Ack! Ok, yes, I love you both!” He admitted. Part of him was shocked at his lack of gross sobbing, and part of him wondered why his chest felt so warm. Inigo felt good, and despite the tears running down his face, he realized he was very happy.

Once Cynthia and Owain were done sobbing happy tears all over Inigo’s floppy ears and shirt, they relaxed in the field and came down from the emotional outbursts. The sun rose halfway to its height above them; the box of chocolates had been consumed in minutes, and Cynthia was idly plucking the petals off the flowers.

“So… what kinda problem does Owain have, anyway?” Cynthia asked. Inigo winced, which brought to his attention the feel of her head on his shoulder. He liked the sensation, despite how strangely new it was.

“Uh, well,” Owain began. He was curled against the dancer’s other side, his arm serving as a pillow. Inigo turned his head slightly, able to make out the blonde nervously playing with one of Cynthia’s red pigtails. “You see, my fellow defender of justice, I have a… need. For… physical contact. Of… of the most intimate kind.”

“You need hugs?” Cynthia gasped. “Wait, no… do you need… you know…”

“He does,” Inigo confirmed as he felt Owain tense up beside him. “The details are kind of specific, but basically he does.”

“And you need not worry!” Owain quickly added. “Helping with… with my problem isn’t required for, uh.. D-dating. I mean, I know I asked Inigo before we were, um… together, but--”

“I get it,” Cynthia interrupted. She reached up and held Owain’s nervous fingers. “Don’t worry about me, Owain. I’ll help if I can! And even if I can’t, I’ll still support you. I promise!”

Owain lifted his head, about to protest, but stopped he stopped short and smiled. “Your unconditional affection honors me beyond words. Thank you.”

“Speaking of,” Inigo added, “Brady told me that you need to take less over time. Or, uh… do it less? Less often?” He frowned.

“You… you told Brady…?” Owain’s voice was soft with dawning horror.

“No, I just-- I told him a friend had an addiction, that’s all. Sorry to worry you. Anyways, we should probably get back to our tents,” Inigo pointed out. Stars were becoming visible in the sky above them. “I think Frederick will have our heads if we’re gone for training.”

Owain chuckled, though some tension lingered in him. “Ah, Frederick the Wary is ever watchful. Fine, let us return before our absence is noted by his wandering gaze.”

Cynthia hopped up and stretched. As Inigo stood, too, she pulled him into a hug. “Thanks,” she whispered. “I haven’t ever dated before, and definitely never with two people, but I wanna try. So… thank you both.”

Inigo, blushing bright red, was just returning the hug when Owain’s arms wrapped around them. “I’m honored to have you at my side. Both of you,” Owain whispered. The dancer wondered if he could blush deep enough to swoon. “But let us return, for we have the days ahead to spend together!” 

Just like that, Owain was running off, and Cynthia ran after him, laughing. Inigo jogged to keep up, his heart pounding in his chest, butterflies in his stomach, and a genuine smile on his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that does it for Part 3! Thank you all for sticking this out with me, it’s been a slow labor of love and research [so much research] that I intend to keep writing. Expect a Part 4 someday!


End file.
